


cold coffee and warm sweaters

by Cypherr



Series: MCYT agere oneshots [5]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Fluff, Gen, Non-Sexual Age Play, only the characters that they portray, this is not a representation of the content creators themselves, this is not a ship fic you sick fucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28255503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cypherr/pseuds/Cypherr
Summary: Wilbur shoved the styrofoam cup across the small, fold-in table, pillowing his head in his arms, letting out a frustrated sigh as the itchy material of the casual suit he had chosen to wear irritated him.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Series: MCYT agere oneshots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054163
Comments: 34
Kudos: 431





	cold coffee and warm sweaters

**Author's Note:**

> this one is for racoraffi who suggested that Phil finds out a member of SBI is a little at a con! Hope this one lives up to expectations   
> CG!Phil with Little!Wilbur  
> -  
>  On a side note, I really need to stop ending these with naps. It's a bad habit. And sorry this isn't my best writing?? I was slipping HARD when I wrote this

Wilbur had always been a very young little, and he knew that, for his own sanity and dignity, that he could _never_ let anyone else know. He, all things considered, had done a very good job- especially since streaming could be very stressful at times. None of his friends even _suspected_ that something was off about him. But, he should have known that spending an entire _week_ away from home, unable to properly regress, for Twitchcon, would be his downfall.

It was only the second day there and he was _exhausted_. Him, Phil, Tommy, Tubbo, and Fundy had just finished a panel, and, while it had been great fun, the questions were rapid fire, and, towards the end, it began to get uncomfortably personal. They were all back in a sort of staff or lounge room, just hanging out for a while before they went back to mingle with the fans and other creators. Wilbur was nursing a now cooled coffee, slumped over in one of the highly uncomfortable, little plastic chairs in the room. He could see Tommy and Tubbo in front of him, chattering away, making big, wild gestures as they talked, nearly falling off of the counter they rested on a couple of times. Wilbur shoved the styrofoam cup across the small, fold-in table, pillowing his head in his arms, letting out a frustrated sigh as the itchy material of the casual suit he had chosen to wear irritated him. He wanted to be in his oversized, yellow jumper and his fuzzy pajama pants that had little bunnies on them. He wanted his dino stuffies and his favorite purple paci. He wanted to zone out to cartoons while he mindlessly fiddled with stimulus toys.

"Wilbur?" There was a soft voice next to his ear and a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tilted his head out of the comforting dark of his arms, catching the worried gaze of Philza Minecraft himself, crouched on the ground next to him. 

"Hello," he murmured, eyes glassy with unbidden tears. Phil frowned, reaching to comb a hand through his sweat slicked brown hair. He sighed, leaning into the touch as he closed his eyes.

"Fundy, could you bring my car around for me?" He heard the jangle of keys and the click of a door shutting, and then all was silent again. Phil continued to scrape blunt fingernails across his scalp, which, in the grand scheme of things, was certainly not helping, but the sensation felt too nice to pull away. He could feel the world around him going fuzzy as he bordered on dropping, and his heart was in his throat. Not only was he slipping around his friends, he was slipping _in public_. He let out a low whine, subconsciously leaning further into Phil's hand, the man cooing lightly in response.

"Is Wil okay?" He heard Tommy's meek voice mutter in the background, as if he were listening from underwater.

"He'll be fine, Toms. He's just a bit under the weather." The world quieted to a peaceful silence once more, Wilbur relishing in it for the short while that it lasted.

"Hey, Wil." He opened his eyes, vision blurred. "Let's get you out of here, okay?" Wilbur nodded, moving to stand up but Phil practically dragged him up instead. He whined in protest but was actually immensely grateful for it- his legs felt as if they were made of rubber.

He leaned against Phil, the older man's arm wrapped around his waist to keep him steady, as they walked through backrooms and mostly empty hallways, making their way to the front of the event center where Fundy had parked Phil's car. He watched, detached from reality, as Fundy handed the keys to Phil, the Dutch man giving him a small smile before he jogged off, back to the con. Phil, the saint of a man that he was, helped ease him into the front passenger seat, buckling him in when his hands fumbled with the latch.

He fidged in place the entire car ride back to his hotel, curling himself up as small as he could manage as he hummed along to the radio, trying to stay as big as he could. His hand kept trying to migrate to his mouth, however, his subconscious trying to self soothe by sucking on his thumb. He eventually settled for wrapping his arms around himself, trying to ignore the not so subtle glances Phil would send his way.

"'m sorry," he mumbled as they pulled into the parking lot.

"Don't apologize, Wil. It's okay. I know it's stressful." Wil nodded, chewing on his lower lip as he fiddled with his hands in his lap while the ginger parked.

Phil helped him out of the car, letting Wilbur cling to his upper arm while they walked to Wil's room. The brunette did his best to ignore the people milling about the lobby, the family walking through the halls, and the old man in the lift, on the way there. By the time Phil had unlocked the door, he was pretty much the only thing keeping Wilbur upright. His legs felt like jelly and every time he tried to compose himself, to claw his way out of his headspace, he only fell deeper in, the world around him growing hazier with each failed attempt.

When he heard the door click shut behind him, he stumbled over to where he could see his bright, red bag sitting over by the rest of his luggage, Phil keeping him steady the whole way. He dropped to his knees, Phil following suit, and unzipped it, immediately being met with his favorite yellow dino stuffie. He grinned, giggling to himself, and squeezed the plush to his chest, already far too deep to care about the man next to him. He shut his eyes, relishing in the feeling of the soft, padded scales of the stegosaurus against his skin. He was so caught up in finally having one of his favorite items, that he didn't notice Phil removing the rest of the items from the bag.

Phil, sorting through all that had been packed, pulled out an oversized, velvety yellow jumper and pink, fuzzy pajama pants that had little, cartoon, white rabbits all over them. He also pulled out a purple pacifier that had a small butterfly design in the center, and a glittery, blue and green sensory bottle along with a pastel blue rattle, in case the boy wasn't quite tired enough for a nap, yet.

Phil was well versed in being a caregiver- Wilbur was not the first little he'd taken care of, after all. He'd spent plenty of time taking care of Tommy and occasionally Techno to know the signs of a regression, and sitting at that plastic table in that stuffy little room, Wilbur had been sending alarm bells ringing through his head.

"Hey, Wilbs," Phil whispered, setting a hand on the little's thigh to grab his attention. The brunette looked up, eyes glassy with a slight flush to his face. He had a stuffed yellow spike in his mouth, as well, gently gnawing on the material. Phil smiled softly, hoping to reassure the boy.

"Let's get you changed into some comfy clothes, okay? A little boy like you doesn't need big boy clothes." Wilbur giggled, leaning forward to bury his face in the crook of Phil's neck.

"Da!" He babbled while Phil reached to grab the outfit he had laid out. Phil practically melted at the name. He knew Wilbur was in his headspace, but he was glad that he trusted him- thought highly enough of him- to call him _dad_.

He helped Wilbur out of his itchy suit- really, he wasn't sure why Wilbur insisted on wearing them- and helped him wriggle into the new clothes. Before the boy could stuff his dino plush back in his mouth, though, he held up the purple paci, smiling as the little's face lit up in delight. He let out an incomprehensible string of babbles before shoving it in his mouth, seeming to become even smaller at the action.

"Hey baby boy," Phil murmured, running a gentle hand through curly locks. "Let's get off this floor and into bed. Doesn't that sound nice?" Wil nodded, eyes already drooping now that the initial excitement of being little had worn off. It was late in the afternoon, so the boy was most definitely due for a nap.

He hauled Wilbur up with him, supporting the little as he stumbled over to the queen sized bed. He quickly pulled the sheets back so he could situate the boy properly. Wil practically collapsed onto the mattress once he was allowed to, curling around the plush stegosaurus in his arms, sucking on his paci as his eyes struggled to stay open. He tucked the kid in, making sure to wrap the fluffy red blanket he spotted at the edge of the bed around him as well.

"Sleep well, hun. I'll wake you in an hour," he whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead, carding his hand through soft curls until Wilbur finally drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> remember to leave any requests in the comments! they don't have to be specific either, just tell me who you'd like to see


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